Well it was bound to happen really. No sooner do I write in favour of riding in the rain as making you a proper cyclists and a man, or something, than the weather decides to show me exactly why I was wrong.
With my own words about the joys of being wet and cold ringing in my ears I was about to remember that being wet and cold isn’t actually any fun at all. The torture started while I was still in bed, listening to the sounds of a wet road and with just enough of my face peering out to realise that it was also pretty chilly in the world outside the duvet. In what seems like no time at all I was fighting a headwind blowing freezing rain into my face and wondering why I thought an autumnal outfit which clearly featured far too few clothes, had been a good idea. A windproof top was proving that windproof does not mean also waterproof, and shorts were leaving my knees and legs turning pink. I was resolved to fight it out however painful it got, as I briefly remembered something I’d seen on telly about how you feel warm just before you die of hypothermia.
Even with the relief of a warm shower at work the pain wasn’t over as I then spent the whole day aware that I was going to have to climb back into cool, wet shorts and head back out into the wind.
All in all then riding in the rain might be brave, but it’s also not very nice. Mind you, if I’d got the bus I’d have had less time in bed, and probably been more asleep when I hit my desk.
A
No comments:
Post a Comment